Blind Date
by Lunar Pull
Summary: Heero Yuy is having a monumentally awful day and to top it all off, he has to go on a blind date set up by his best friend. One-shot, 1x2 get-together.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing.

Pairings: 1x2, 1+4 (brotp, really)

Warnings: yaoi, folks. M/M sexual relations occur. Also, some OOC-ness, as this is set in an Alternate Universe.

* * *

Heero Yuy was, without a doubt, having the worst day in the history of the universe. It had begun with him stumbling out of bed fifteen minutes later than usual and a mad dash to the bus stop only to find that the bus had arrived on time, for once, effectively making him late to work. Then, he'd dealt with eight hours of almost non-stop asinine phone calls concerning various computer issues, not to mention the awkward hour he'd spent being borderline sexually harassed by his boss. And now, he was walking home (he'd missed the bus again and he refused to wait for the next one) in the middle of a downpour. If he believed in karma—he usually left that type of superstitiousness to his flighty roommate—he'd say he must have done something seriously fucked up to deserve such a fate.

Heero sighed heavily as he shoved his hands in his pockets, fishing for his apartment keys. Of course with his luck, they weren't there, so he settled for banging his forehead against his front door, over and over again, in defeat. He lost track of how long he stood there, rhythmically connecting his forehead with the wooden door and cursing the universe, but the next thing he knew, he was tumbling face first into his apartment.

"Heero, are you okay?"

Heero turned, resting on his back to look up at Quatre, eyes bright and smile wide, as usual. He wasn't proud of the way he wanted to punch the blonde in the face.

"Yes, I'm fine."

Quatre's pursed his lips and crouched down, forearms resting on his knees. "Why were you knocking on the door with your head?"

Heero's blue eyes fluttered closed as a pounding headache made itself known. "Because life is utterly meaningless."

"Heero!" Quatre scolded, "Don't be silly. I'm gonna put on a pot of tea and you're going to get out of the doorway and go change and then you're going to tell me all about your day."

Quatre smiled as he rubbed Heero's damp hair affectionately and Heero felt all of his frustration draining out of him. Sometimes, he swore his best friend had some sort of magical powers because there was no one in the world who could soothe away his worries. It had always been this way with them. Heero's father had been a family friend of the Winner family and Heero had spent most of his summers in various mansions around the world. Quatre had been his closest (honestly—only) friend for as long as Heero could remember. Their childhood was filled with small adventures, broken bones, and scraped knees and Heero wouldn't have it any other way. Even though it was usually Quatre's ridiculous ideas that got them into trouble, Heero didn't hold a grudge. Besides, he usually bailed them out of said trouble in the end.

Heero stood up, making a pathetic groaning noise and went into his bedroom. "Turn that damn chanting off, please."

Quatre clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "Heero, it's Tibetan monks throat-singing and it's supposed to relax you."

"For god's sake, Quatre, just turn it off," Heero shouted into the living room, his hands busy searching through the chest's drawers for his favorite pair of sweatpants. He sighed in relief when the demonic, guttural noises coming from their living room were replaced by silence. He had hoped that Quatre's yoga and meditation phase would pass, just as his horse-riding phase, and his astrology phase, and the strange obsession he'd had with an awful band called Zero System. But it had lasted several years, culminating in Quatre opening up his own yoga studio.

He loved his friend to death, but the two were like night and day. Quatre was all bright sunshine and wispy clouds and Heero was all, well, utter, crushing darkness. He sometimes envied his friend's cheerful attitude, though he'd never admit it out loud.

"You're wearing sweatpants on your date?" Quatre asked, poking his head in Heero's bedroom sans permission.

"Jesus Christ, you know I hate when you do that," Heero barked, before realization dawned, "oh, fucking shit."

"You forgot didn't you," Quatre said, sagely.

"I can't go like this," Heero decided, "it's pouring rain and I'm exhausted."

"You could be missing out on meeting the love of your life, you know," Quatre teased, leaving the bedroom upon hearing the whistle of the tea kettle.

"It was a dumb idea anyway," Heero grumbled, following Quatre, "letting you set me up on a blind date is just asking for trouble. Besides, knowing you, it's probably some granola-munching hippie."

Quatre spun around, eyes narrowing dangerously.

"No offense," Heero offered weakly.

Quatre poured the steaming liquid into two mugs, handing one to Heero before adding insane amounts of honey to his own cup. "First off," he began, "we agreed to set _each other _up on blind dates after you so helpfully pointed out that we'd been suffering from quite a dry spell. Second, I know your tastes, Heero, and I studied my students very carefully before selecting the perfect match."

Heero snorted. "The very fact that they were in your yoga class in tells me I'm not interested."

"This coming from the guy who is so wound up he snapped at a toddler the other day."

"He was asking for it."

"Was our front door asking for it, too?" Quatre replied easily.

Heero let out a long-suffering sigh. "Alright, so maybe I'm wound up. But Treize won't stop ogling my ass at work and cute coffee shop manager guy still glares at me like I'm the devil and I just need..."

"To get laid?" Quatre supplied.

"I don't know," Heero slumped down on their living room couch, feeling hopeless.

"So the truth comes out. This is about coffee shop guy." Quatre sat cross-legged on the ground in front of Heero, sipping from his mug, looking serene and wise—everything Heero wasn't.

"He's just so gorgeous," Heero moaned, "every time I try to talk to him, I trip all over my words and sound like an idiot. And the more he glares, the more I can't stop thinking about him."

"Maybe if your first meeting hadn't been quite so intense..." Quatre reminded Heero.

It was true, that Heero had been too harsh and frankly, outright rude, to the dark-haired barista that had flubbed his simple of order of black coffee, no sugar. He'd had another rough morning at work and his lunch—the only time Heero had to sit in peace and enjoy himself—had been very nearly ruined by taking a sip of disgustingly sweet coffee. He'd marched up to the counter, bypassing the line of customers and yelled at the girl so much she'd almost burst into tears. In hindsight, it wasn't his proudest moment.

And then, a beautiful man had emerged from the back room of the store, outrageously long braid trailing behind him as he rushed to defend his employee.

"What's your problem, buddy?" the man's commanding tone shocked Heero into submission. Or maybe it was those gorgeous violet eyes.

"I—uh," Heero stammered, struggling to regain his composure as his entire world turned upside down, "Can I speak to the manager?"

"You're talkin' to him, pal," the man replied icily. His rough tone shouldn't have made Heero's dick twitch with interest.

"My order was...um..." Heero was certain he'd never sounded more like a complete ass.

"Listen, I don't care what happened, you don't have the right to be rude to my employees." The barista beside the man sniffled pitifully and Heero felt awful.

"I'm sorry," Heero said suddenly, before spinning on his heels and practically running out of the shop.

It was, without a doubt, the most embarrassing moment in his life, and that included the time he was ten years old and Rashid walked in on him and Quatre 'practicing kissing'.

Despite his mortification, Heero had returned every lunch break for a month now, never repeating an incident like before (though the same barista did mess up his order again—twice), and staring longingly at the store manager, who usually frowned when he caught his gaze.

"You should just try talking to him again," Quatre's voice brought Heero back to the present.

"No, I'm lucky he still lets me in to the shop at all," Heero muttered.

"So you're just gonna pine for this man, whose name you don't even know, for the rest of your life?"

"That's the plan."

Quatre shook his head. "Well, in the meantime you should go on this date. Who knows? Maybe he's hotter than coffee shop guy."

Heero moaned pathetically, "You haven't seen this guy."

"Heero, I'm putting my foot down," Quatre said, standing up swiftly. "You are a handsome, intelligent, somewhat grumpy but generally lovable young man and you need to get out there and get yourself laid before you spontaneously combust."

Heero's eyebrows almost reached his hairline. "I mean it, Heero," Quatre continued, his tone softening, "You have to at least try. I don't want you to be miserable forever."

Heero was powerless to resist Quatre, blinking his big, puppy dog eyes, or the concerned best friend routine. "Fine," he grumbled petulantly.

Half an hour later, he was showered, dressed in his most stylish ensemble (tight black jeans and a thin, forest green sweater) and being pushed through the door by Quatre.

"You won't regret it!" Quatre called out after him.

Heero doubted that very much, but he continued walking out of his apartment building, feeling a dread akin to attending a funeral, instead of the nervous excitement of a first date.

* * *

The restaurant was one of those quirky, hole-in-the-wall vegan joints Quatre loved and Heero hated and he should have left when saw that it was named _The Tofu Palace_ but he didn't. He let himself be led to an empty table for two. He began agonizing as soon as he was seated. Where was this guy? He'd been almost fifteen minutes late, he expected the table to be filled. Maybe he was one of those 'time is relative therefore I'm never truly late' kinda guys. Or maybe Heero was being stood up. He didn't know which option terrified him more and he was two seconds from dialing Quatre and berating him for his useless meddling when a familiar voice grabbed his attention.

"You've got to be shitting me."

Heero looked up, his stomach sinking and his pulse quickening, at the same beautiful man who ran his favorite coffee shop. The man of his dreams.

"This is unbelievable," the man said, sitting across from Heero despite the venom in his voice, "_you're_ Heero? Quatre's friend?"

Heero nodded dumbly, unable to form words because the man across from him was fucking breath-taking. His eyes were bright and furious, he wore a tight black shirt that hugged his slender body just right and his braid hung over his shoulder, like a snake. Lead me not into temptation, indeed. This man was forbidden fruit and Heero was sure he'd spend the rest of his lonely life imagining what it would feel like to taste those lips.

"I can't believe he's friends with such a dick," the man muttered.

"Since we were little," Heero's tongue finally worked again, "I'm Heero Yuy, by the way."

"I know that," the man scoffed, "I'm Duo. Duo Maxwell."

Heero could finally put a name to the face he'd been fantasizing about for weeks and it shouldn't have made him as giddy as it did. Duo Maxwell. What a perfect name.

"I gotta say, Quatre didn't mention anything about his friend's anger problem. He made you seem like a goddamn saint."

"He sees me through rose-colored glasses. He kinda sees everything like that."

"No kidding," Duo's captivating eyes met Heero's. "The only reason I'm still here is because you're paying for this dinner and Quat said he'd give me a free meditation lesson if I agreed to this."

Heero was momentarily stunned by the apparent closeness between Quatre and Duo (who the hell called him Quat, anyway?) and the fact that the former had to coerce someone into going on a date with him. Was he that horrible?

"You don't have to stay. I can tell him you did, though, if you'd like." Heero guessed he must have sounded sincere enough because Duo seemed to take pity on him.

"It's fine, I'm starving."

They settled into silence as they glanced over the menu. Heero felt overwhelmed by all the options and he looked up to find Duo studying the menu dubiously, as if he thought the thing was going to jump up and bite him.

"I don't know what any of this is," Heero ventured.

Duo snorted. "Me neither. It looks like a lot of bullshit."

Heero let out a short laugh and Duo leaned back in his chair, eyeing him carefully. "So what's your deal? What's with the stick up you ass?"

Heero laughed again, surprising himself. "I have a hard time with...people. It's always been difficult for me to make connections and to gauge what is socially acceptable. Also, I am having a shitty life, so there's also that."

Duo's sharp laugh was music to his ears. "What's so shitty about it?"

"I hate my job, I hate my boss. I've been in a general state of unhappiness since I was about fifteen."

"Join the club, pal. You're not exactly special. No one likes their job, no one likes their boss, no one is happy. Doesn't give you an excuse to be a jerk." Despite the harshness of the words, Duo's tone was soft, almost joking and Heero relaxed a bit.

"You make it sound so simple."

"It is simple, man," Duo said, "there is one cardinal rule to life and that is don't be a dick."

"I'll try to remember that."

Duo grinned. "Was that a joke?"

Heero returned the smile. "Maybe."

Duo's loud laughter filled the space around them again. "Stick with me, 'Ro. I'll make a human out of you yet."

Something like butterflies or giant flying robots kicked up in Heero's stomach at Duo's words. "How long have you lived in the city?" he managed to ask.

"Not long. A few months. Started working at the coffee shop about a month ago."

"You became manager rather fast."

"I've got the experience," Duo replied.

"How long have you been a student of Quatre?" Heero asked, desperate to keep Duo talking.

Duo chuckled. "You make it sound so formal. I've been taking yoga classes for a few weeks."

"Any particular reason?" Heero tried his best not to sound judgmental.

"It's supposed to help with my...'tough guy attitude'," Duo answered, his fingers air-quoting around the words in a way that usually annoyed Heero but was endearing coming from the braided man.

"I like your attitude." The words had left Heero's mouth before he could stop himself.

Duo shrugged. "It's also made me incredibly flexible."

Had Heero's overactive imagination hallucinated the saucy wink that accompanied the statement? It didn't seem to matter to Heero's dick, which hardened almost painfully against his denim.

Duo cleared his throat before speaking, "So what's your dream job?"

Heero frowned at the sudden change of topic and Duo picked up on his confusion. "You said you hate your job, right? So what is your idea of the perfect job?"

Heero felt the weight of Duo's intense gaze as he searched for his answer. "When I was a little boy, I always wanted to be a pilot."

"No fucking shit!" Duo exclaimed, his hands smacking sharply against the table, making the silverware rattle. "Me too! I even tried to get into flight school when I graduated high school."

"Well, you got much farther than I did. What happened?"

Duo's face fell, and Heero worried that he'd overreached and offended the man. "They decided I was too reckless and dangerous. Didn't pass the psychiatric exam to get in."

Hearing that Duo was apparently not mentally stable enough to be a pilot should have set off all sorts of alarms in Heero's head. Instead, it made him feel unbearably fond of him. He was honest and sincere, blindingly perfect even in his flaws. Heero was so gone on the guy, it was embarrassing.

In an uncharacteristic show of confidence, Heero reached across the table and grabbed Duo's hand. The braided man looked up sharply, surprise evident on his face, but he allowed the touch.

"Do you want to go eat somewhere else?" Heero asked. "I know a place that makes the best cheesesteak sandwiches near here."

Duo smiled and Heero's heart jackhammered against his chest. "That sounds great."

* * *

They never made it to the cheesesteak place. Heero found the courage to confess to Duo that he'd had the biggest crush on him since they met and Duo's easy reply of "no shit, Sherlock," had stunned him into silence.

"I kinda liked you, too, you know," Duo whispered, stalking closer and closer to him in the darkness of his apartment. "Thought you were goddamn crazy but also incredibly hot."

He pushed Heero up against the wall and crushed their lips together, hands scrambling to divulge Heero of his sweater ('hideous—don't ever wear it again,' he'd informed Heero earlier in the night) and run his hands along the muscled torso beneath.

Heero let Duo's mouth explore his neck, biting at the skin and running his tongue deliciously along the pulse point there. He let out an ungraceful groan when Duo's hands palmed his erection through his jeans and he retaliated by tugging firmly on Duo's braid. The moan Duo let out, deep and low in his throat, let Heero know he'd found a not-so-secret kink and he filed the information away in his mind for later use.

Heero's hands travelled Duo's body, touching every inch of heated skin he could get his hands on and loving the way the braided man shivered under his fingers. Their mouths found their way back to each other, tongues wrestling for dominance and lips pressing close together. Somehow, the rest of their clothes disappeared without their lips parting for more than a second. When they were both finally naked, Duo pulled back. His eyes raked over Heero's body and he let out a long whistle.

"_Goddamn_," Duo said, a feral smirk on his lips.

Heero grabbed at him, reversing their positions and lifting the braided man up by his thighs. Duo wrapped his long legs around Heero's waist and Heero let out a growl before kissing him again. Duo's hips moved instinctively, rubbing their hardened cocks together splendidly, letting Heero know that despite being held up against the wall, he was still in control. And Heero was more than okay with that.

"Bedroom?" Heero breathed out against Duo's lips. Duo pointed towards a opened doorway.

They never made it to the bedroom, either. They tumbled rather unceremoniously on the nearest couch, Duo landing hard enough on top of Heero that he knew he'd be bruised in the morning. Not that he cared. Being bruised by Duo seemed like the sweetest punishment for their first meeting.

"I'm really sorry about yelling at that barista," Heero said suddenly. Duo straddled him, rolling his hips wantonly and Heero really hoped that it was his way of saying he was forgiven.

"Hilde's an awful barista, don't worry about it," Duo panted. "You wouldn't happen to have some lube, would you?"

Heero shook his head, mentally cursing himself for his lack of foresight. Despite his disappointment, his skin burned, his dick ached and he honestly didn't think he had the patience to wait while Duo prepared him. Duo only grinned. "That's okay, I don't think I can last that long anyway."

Heero let out a shaky breath as Duo held his long, fingers near his mouth. He sucked each one in, wishing that it was Duo's cock instead. That would be for next time. God, he hoped there was a next time.

Duo pressed a quick kiss to Heero's forehead before reaching between their sweat-slick bodies and wrapping his wet hand around them both. The broken moan that escaped Heero's lips made Duo chuckled darkly, and he stroked their hardened flesh quickly.

"Duo," Heero panted, as the braided man worked them both with expert hands. Heero's orgasm hit him with the force of a lighting storm, the wave of pleasure unexpectedly cresting, culminating in a tingling sensation that spread throughout his body. Duo's perfect mouth hung open as he drew in a sharp breath and came—hot and sticky—between them.

Their foreheads resting against each other, Heero and Duo breathed as one until Duo's arms gave out and he collapsed on top of Heero, knocking the breath out of him.

Heero thought Duo could have stolen his breath any day of the week. He wrapped his arms around the slim man and made a mental note to thank Quatre later.

Duo leaned up, kissing Heero deeply. "I hope you're not thinking about leaving."

Heero smiled widely, feeling relaxed for the first time in ages. "I wouldn't dream of it."

"Good," Duo responded, peppering Heero's bare chest with kisses. "Because I'm nowhere near done with you yet."

Heero knew proposing marriage after only a few hours together was irrational. Perhaps, he'd wait until tomorrow morning.

With Duo's full lips trailing a wet path down his chest, his shoulders settled snuggly between his legs, Heero was thankful for every shitty day, every disappointment, every seemingly insignificant coincidence that had led him to this very moment. To Duo Maxwell's flexible body and expressive eyes. He suddenly felt that he'd never be unlucky again.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing.

Pairings: 1x2, 3x4

Warnings: m/m relationship, references to sex.

Author's Note: Thanks to Miss M for beta-ing this! I didn't really mean for this to be anything more than a one-shot but, here I am. More chapters to come as inspiration strikes!

**The One With No Sex**

Two glorious months had passed since a series of seemingly random events - and the help of his best friend, Quatre - had led Heero Yuy to the most wonderful man he had ever met, Duo Maxwell. To say that Heero was out of his league was an understatement. Duo was charming, wild, and possessed a self-confidence that truly astounded. Heero, on the other hand, was quiet and usually came off as a bit of an asshole. Or a lot. But none of that mattered anymore because Duo—gorgeous, sexy, sarcastic Duo—was his. They'd begun spending most of their free time together almost immediately after their first date, both men finding it incredibly difficult to keep their hands off each other.

They'd exchanged '_I love yous' _one particularly intense night, on Heero's apartment building's rooftop, far too early for the amount of time they'd known each other. Reason was something that flew out of Heero's mind any time Duo was near. Besides, it was utterly true. Heero was head over heels for the coffee shop manager and he didn't care who knew. For the last month, Heero's life had been an endless cycle of tender kisses, gratuitous hand-holding and mind-blowing sex and Heero was starting to believe that maybe the world really was as fantastic as Quatre had always believed.

That is, until today. When it all came crashing down.

"What do you mean we can't have sex?" Heero whined, fully aware of how absurdly childish he sounded but not really concerned with that, as the love of his life had just refused him.

"Oh come on, 'Ro," Duo said over his shoulder, as he strolled out of his bedroom, zipping up his jeans. "You sound like a damn addict. Is that all you want from me?"

Heero had walked out of the bedroom, following Duo's path, just in time to see Duo's expression darken. He stood in the hall, arms crossed over his chest and eyebrow raised, waiting for Heero's answer.

"That's not it, Duo," Heero placated, "you know that."

"Then what exactly is the issue here?" Duo asked, brows furrowed in anger.

Heero tried not to be turned on by the sight of Duo, eyes fiery and foot tapping impatiently, his biceps flexing ever-so-slightly. He tried.

Some embarrassing, aborted sounds left his lips before Heero's mouth caught up with his mind. "I just love having sex with you."

It was probably not the most intelligent point he had ever argued, especially given how foolish Heero sounded. Duo's expression remain unchanged, so Heero struggled to come up with a different argument—one hopefully not guided by his dick. Duo's sudden laughter startled him.

"Babe," Duo cooed, wrapping his arms around Heero to bring their bodies closer together. "You crack me up, you know that?"

Heero's stomach fluttered at Duo's nickname and the tension lifted from his body as he buried his nose in Duo's neck. He breathed in deep.

"I'm glad that's your reaction," Heero murmured, the hair framing Duo's face tickling his nose.

Duo only hummed a sweet sound and let Heero hold him close.

"I just don't understand why?" Heero asked, finally letting Duo go. Duo ruffled Heero's hair playfully before strolling into the kitchen to start on dinner, Heero on his heels. While the latter sat on a stool, elbows on the counter, the former searched through the food pantry.

Heero was seized by a sudden fear. "Am I doing something wrong?"

"'Ro, please," Duo said dismissively before a dreamy, faraway look crossed his face. "Fucking you is, like, what I feel my whole life has been preparing me for."

He winked at Heero before setting a pan on the stove top and sauntering, rather seductively for someone who didn't want to have sex, over to Heero. He cupped his chin, forcing their eyes to meet, before climbing onto Heero's lap. "I mean it," he whispered into his ear, "I _adore_ fucking you."

Who was Heero to argue with definitive proof like that?

"Then why?" Heero all but whimpered as Duo rose up and walked back to the front of the stove like he hadn't just turned the dark-haired man's world upside down.

"Look, if I tell you, you have to promise to be reasonable about it."

Heero narrowed his eyes dangerously at Duo's statement. The braided man's tone had been just a bit too flippant, a bit too casual. Heero knew he wasn't going to like what came next.

"It was Quatre's idea," the words fell quickly out of Duo's mouth, as if the speed of the syllables would affect Heero's reception. It didn't. Heero was just as furious as Duo had suspected he'd be. The tense silence that settled between them was proof.

Duo turned to face his lover then, whatever ingredients he'd emptied into the pan sizzling and filling the air with a delicious smell that did absolutely nothing to quell Heero's anger.

"It's an assignment he gave the whole class," Duo began, calmly. "He's all about delaying gratification these days. We're supposed to avoid something that we do on a daily basis—something we greatly enjoy—for a month. He says that when we finally do it again, it will be so much better than before since we've seen what it's like to be without it. An exercise in patience, or some shit."

Duo's explanation did nothing to lessen the sting of betrayal. How could his loyal lifelong friend do something like this?

"Before you spiral out of control," Heero's head snapped up, indignant despite the truth of Duo's words. Duo smirked before continuing, "Quat didn't specify _what_ we had to give up."

Heero blinked a few times, trying to wrap his mind around Duo's revelation. He understood, deep down, that this unfortunate turn of events was not what Quatre had intended. But it was his fault.

Caught in the whirlwind of his new relationship, Heero had been neglecting his friend. He forgot all about their plan to set each other up on blind dates. Quatre had seemed genuinely happy for Heero and Duo, but it was clear now that he was lonely if he had to go as far as to make his students suffer with him. Now it was up to Heero to make good on their agreement and save Quatre's students (and himself) for further torment.

Heero was too wrapped up in his plotting to attempt to coax Duo into anything more than lazing about on the couch after their meal. If Duo noticed Heero being unusually quiet the rest of the night, he didn't mention it.

* * *

The next day, Heero was sat at his desk, patiently waiting for the most recent employee of the IT department to enter. He'd called a meeting with him mostly because as the manager of the department, it was his duty to give the new employee the rundown of how things worked and to warn him about Treize's tendency to touch his male employees inappropriately. If Heero had any doubts about the more secretive aspects of this meeting, they were immediately dispelled when the tall, green-eyed man walked into his office, confidence evident in his stride.

Heero looked down at the employee file on his desk, scanning the text quickly to find the new employee's name. _Oh yes_, Heero thought, _Trowa Barton will do quite nicely_.

When the strapping man sat down in a chair, facing his supervisor, Heero decided that pleasantries and formalities were not necessary.

"Are you gay?" Heero asked bluntly.

Trowa shifted in his seat a bit, the only sign of his discomfort. His reply was cool and collected, an air of arrogance tinging the words. "I'm fairly certain you're not allowed to ask me that."

Heero smirked, a bit taken aback by Trowa's easy deflection, but very much pleased. Things were starting to look up. "I'll take that as a yes. You're new to the city, correct? Perhaps you need some assistance in meeting new people. How would you like to go on a date?"

The laugh that escaped Trowa's lips was melodious and sexy and Heero felt even more confident in his choice.

"I'm very sorry, Mr. Yuy, but you're not really my type."

Heero's entire demeanor darkened. Turned down by his own boyfriend, and now turned down by a man he wasn't even propositioning. This week was steadily getting worse and worse. Luckily, the thought of Quatre's unusually reserved attitude recently spurred him on his mission.

"I'm not asking you on date, Mr. Barton," Heero began, careful to make his intent much clearer than before, "I want you to date my friend."

Trowa's eyebrow lifted, his interest obvious. "So this would be a blind date?"

Heero nodded.

"I'm not sure," Trowa continued, "From my experience, blind dates are usually awfully awkward and incredibly unsatisfying."

"That's what I used to think," Heero replied, a ghost of a smile on his lips as his thoughts wandered to a certain braided man. He shook his head as if to clear his mind. "I assure you my friend is very attractive and possibly the best person I know. You'd be lucky to be with him."

Trowa's face remained placid as he thought the offer over. Heero logged onto his computer, quickly scanning a folder filled with personal photos before selecting the best one: a picture Heero had taken of Quatre during a hike, his face turned towards the camera at just the right angle, a rare candid shot that captured the blonde smiling softly and sweetly. He turned the screen towards Trowa, who shifted forwards in his seat to take a closer look.

"What's his name?" Trowa asked, eyes pensive.

"Quatre," Heero responded.

He felt suddenly strange, his focus on his mission to find a date for Quatre tempered by the thought that he was somehow pimping his best friend out. Was it alright to show Trowa pictures like this? Quatre certainly hadn't shown Duo photos of Heero. He recalled how his friend had mentioned how it had taken him a long time to decide on Duo. Caught up in his moral dilemma, Heero did not notice Trowa's hands ghosting over the keyboard, clicking through more pictures, until his thoughts were broken by the tall man's chuckle.

Heero quickly turned the computer back around to face him and felt his cheeks heat in embarrassment.

The photo on the screen was taken at a fundraising event hosted by the Winner family and as Heero and Quatre both hated being there, they drank too much wine and danced like fools (or rather—Heero had let Quatre drag him to the dance floor to stand awkwardly at his side while the more graceful of the pair danced much too provocatively for the occasion or song). The photo was taken just as the pair were being escorted out of the party by security guards. Heero's face was set in a drunken scowl as he struggled to escape the guards hold on his arms and Quatre grinned widely at the camera, eyes crinkled and hair mussed, his hand a blur as he had been waving madly at the camera.

"He looks like trouble," Trowa said, amused and looking considerably more interested than before.

"Yeah, well, he's not the best at holding his liquor."

Trowa sat back in his chair. "Alright, then. Why not? I'll pick him up on Friday at seven."

Heero wasn't entirely sure why a horribly embarrassing photo would cement Trowa's decision and if he had been less desperate, he might have paused to consider the implications of this moment. Perhaps, in another life, Heero had been a calculating and logical individual, but in this one, he was a man blinded by love. So he accepted Trowa's offer without much thought.

* * *

Friday night arrived much more slowly than Heero had anticipated. Most of his week had been spent training Trowa at work, trying to control himself around his boyfriend and deflecting Quatre's numerous questions about his date.

"What's he like?" Quatre had asked, voice full of excitement.

"He's...tall," Heero had responded before making up a weak excuse for why he simply had to leave their apartment at that very moment.

But Friday night had finally come—thank god—and Heero was so close to having his genius plan work out he could almost taste it. He was currently laid on the couch, waiting for Trowa to arrive.

"What do you think?" Quatre asked, strolling out of his bedroom wearing slim blue jeans, a white button-up shirt and a black skinny tie. He looked good, in a sexy accountant kind of way. Definitely not in a date kind of way.

"It's a bit much," Heero answered honestly.

Quatre sighed, threw his hands in the air and walked back into his bedroom. "I know," he cried from the opened doorway, "I'm just so nervous."

"Don't be nervous, Quatre. You'll be great, just be yourself." Heero winced at his own clichéd advice. But it was true. He couldn't imagine anyone not being swept off their feet by his best friend.

"You sound like a self-help book," was the blond's muffled reply.

"You know I'm not good at this stuff."

Quatre came out into the living room again, this time wearing a blue sweater over the white button-down. "I know you're not. I appreciate your help. Is this better?"

Heero stood and walked towards Quatre, smiling slightly at seeing his usually calm friend ruffled and nervous. He stood in front of the blond and loosened his tie until he could take it off. Then, he straightened his shirt collar while undoing the top button. He finished by combing through Quatre's tousled mane.

"That's better," he said as he patted Quatre's shoulders.

"Thank you for this, Heero," Quatre said, batting thick eyelashes at Heero and making him feel all sorts of guilty. He'd put almost no effort into finding him the right date, and here he was, accepting gratitude he didn't deserve. "You're such a good friend," Quatre added with a little smile that drove the nail in the coffin and Heero was about to tell him the truth before a knock on their front door grabbed their attention. It was too late now.

When they opened the front door, it was to find Trowa in a clingy black shirt that showed off his muscles and impossibly tight black leather pants. Quatre and Heero exchanged stunned glances.

"You must be Quatre," Trowa's smooth-as-silk voice cut through the tension.

His eyes raked over the shorter man like a predator and Heero immediately saw his mistake. If he'd taken the time to get to know the man, he would have seen that Trowa was a player who wanted to devour his friend. A protective instinct flared up in him and he was seconds away from stepping between the two when Quatre spoke.

"It's nice to finally meet you. Shall we get going?"

"Oh yeah, I've got quite an evening planned for tonight," Trowa winked wickedly which made Quatre's smile falter and Heero roll his eyes. This was clearly not a good match.

A tense moment passed before they bid farewell to Heero and closed the door, leaving the dark haired man in daze. He felt overwhelmingly guilty, like he was a failure of a friend, like—

A knock on the door startled him out of his downward spiral. Hope flared up in his heart; maybe Quatre had seen what he'd seen. Maybe he'd cancelled the date.

Heero opened the door quickly, almost slamming himself in the head with the force and speed of the motion. But what awaited him on the other side was none other than his own boyfriend.

Duo's eyes were wide and he was panting like he'd run up the five flight of stairs (it wouldn't be the first time for the energetic man) and his usually neat braid was askew; large pieces of his hair hung about his face. His skin shone with sweat and he wore a threadbare sweatshirt too large for him and a ragged pair of jeans and goddamn he was beautiful in his dishevelment. He left Heero speechless.

"Hi."

"Um, hi..." was Heero's eloquent reply.

"Did Quat leave yet?" Duo asked, still breathless.

"Yeah, you just missed him. I thought you were closing the shop today?" Heero said, stepping aside to let Duo into the apartment.

The other man didn't move. "I have to tell you something."

Heero could feel the proverbial carpet being swept out from under his feet. He had known all along that Duo Maxwell was too good to be true, that it was only a matter a time before the braided man wised up and found someone more social and less moody. Someone who suited him.

"I made a mistake." Duo could barely meet his eyes as he repeated, "this whole thing was a mistake."

Heero only nodded. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he thought about how he didn't think he'd ever be hurt this way again. He must have drifted away because the next thing he remembered was Duo snapping his fingers in his face.

"Are you listening to me? 'Ro? You in there?"

"Yeah," Heero said, shaking his head, "I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what? I'm the one that fucked up. I can't believe I thought I could a last a whole month without you."

Heero blinked. "What?"

"I need you, okay?" Duo crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. "I know it's fuckin' ridiculous and probably all sorts of unhealthy but I can't stop thinking about you."

"Me?"

Duo shook his head and strolled into the apartment, calling over his shoulder to keep speaking to Heero. "Yes, you. My boyfriend. My freakin' gorgeous, socially inept, intense, stupid spandex-wearing boyfriend! I don't know how the fuck I got so damn hung up on you but here I am."

Heero followed Duo's path feeling bewildered and amused at the way the braided man sounded angry despite his words. Duo shucked off his clothing, piece by piece, until he was standing at the doorway to Heero's room in only his black briefs. He turned sharply, stopping Heero's advancement with the force of his stare as he slowly undid his messy braid. When he finished, his long hair streamed down his back, a wavy chestnut-colored mass that shone even in the dim apartment lighting.

"I've been waiting all my life for someone to make me feel like you do, and I ain't gonna give you up now."

With that, he walked into the bedroom and flopped onto the bed. "Get over here and fuck me already," he beckoned with a devilish smile.

And, well, Heero couldn't really say no to that.

He followed Duo into the bedroom and practically tore off his clothes, dizzy with passion and emotion and the undeniable truth that the man he loved was crazy about him, too. And wasn't that just so damn lucky?

He all but jumped into the bed and Duo laughed gleefully at his eagerness and made some comment about how he was impatient, even as he sucked a bruise into Heero's neck, but Heero didn't care. He didn't mind at all, because Duo was warm and solid beneath him, his long hair spreading out on the bed like the rolling sea.

Heero may or may not have had an inappropriate fantasy about a merman years ago, fueled by alcohol and teenage hormones and he may or may not have thought about how Duo seemed to be making all of his wildest, darkest dreams come true. He might have even been thinking about just how to phrase said fantasy to Duo when the loud slam of the front door snapped them both to attention.

"I thought you said Quat just left," Duo whispered roughly.

"He did."

"We'll just have to be very quiet," Duo insisted, rolling his hips against Heero.

The slam of wooden cupboards and clanging of silverware worried both men, so they kissed one last time, reluctantly, before tugging on their clothes and wandering out of Heero's bedroom.

They found Quatre angrily making tea. Heero didn't know how that was possible, he didn't even know Quatre could feel that emotion, but the blond's eyebrows were drawn together and his lips were pursed, his hands trembled. He ignored them.

Duo looked at Heero, a questioning look upon his features, but the other man only shrugged. Duo cleared his throat. "You alright?"

"I have never been more insulted in my life!" Quatre spat out.

"What happened?" Heero moved instinctively closer to his friend, fraught with concern.

"He was the most infuriating, rude asshole I've ever met and if I never see his cocky face again it will be too soon."

Heero looked over to Duo, surprised to find that the braided man now wore an amused smile.

"Did you fuck him?" Duo asked, his eyes sparkling, ignoring the tight shake of Heero's head.

Quatre turned to Duo then, a deeper scowl on his face than before, the hand that held the hot cup of tea shaking dangerously. "I am not a whore, Duo," he said darkly before stalking out of the kitchen, towards his own bedroom.

"I only blew him," the blond yelled from across the apartment before slamming his bedroom door shut.

The way Duo crumpled into the couch, helpless with laughter, made Heero's heart leap and though he felt for his best friend, right now, the only thing on his mind was his beautiful boyfriend and the way he brought joy everywhere he went. And how they had something to finish.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: You know the deal...

Pairings: 1x2

Author's Note: Thanks for all the reviews and feedback! As I mentioned before, this was meant to be a one-shot that just got away from me so new chapters will be posted as inspiration strikes. I am working on a 3x4 chapter for those of you who are interested, but I wanted to post one more 1x2 before I got into that. Thanks to Miss M for beta-ing and without further ado, onto the chapter.

**The One with the First Crush**

Heero couldn't take his eyes off Duo. He tried-_God_, he tried so hard. They'd been dating for months and Heero really didn't want to scare him away. He knew he could be intense, especially since he was damn near infatuated with the guy. To be fair, though, it really wasn't Heero's fault. Duo was by far the most dynamic person he'd ever met and sometimes, Heero fretted that he was just a passing fancy to the braided man. So why not stare and fill his eyes with the wonder that was Duo, while he had the chance?

The other problem was that Duo was always in motion. He seemed to have an aversion to sitting still—how he ever got along in a yoga class was still a mystery to Heero—and his constant movements always caught Heero's eye. Even now, sitting on the outdoor furniture of the rooftop lounge area of the apartment building, Duo laughed loudly at whatever undeniably embarrassing childhood story Quatre was retelling, his head thrown back, his whole body shaking. Heero couldn't help but smile; the sight was truly breathtaking.

"I can't believe you told an eleven year old girl you were going to kill her!" Duo managed say, breathlessly.

Quatre's answering giggle joined Duo's guffaws and Heero found himself smiling wider, pleased at the easy friendship the two men had developed.

"In my defense, I was also eleven years old," Heero deadpanned, making Duo and Quatre burst into a new round of laughter.

"Also in his defense," Quatre began, his voice teasing and Heero should have known that his next words were not going to be helpful at all, "he had the biggest crush on her brother."

Duo almost choked on his vodka, dissolving into a fit of coughing and Quatre patted him on the back soothingly, continuing to sip his glass of wine innocently.

"Are you alright?" Heero asked, moving off of the lounge chair to sit next to Duo on the couch. He shot Quatre a venomous glance that should have made him at least dip his head apologetically, but they had consumed quite a bit of alcohol by this point in the night and Heero's scowl came out as more of a squint that merely confused the blond.

"Shit, I'm fine," Duo said, a smile still gracing his face, "but I need to hear about this crush."

"I don't really want to talk about it," Heero said quietly.

Quatre stood up and then immediately stumbled back into the couch. Duo looked into Heero's eyes and leaned in, planting a delicate kiss on the other man's lips. "It looks like Quat's had a bit too much to drink," he whispered, his voice rough and low in Heero's ear, "let's get him inside, so we can be alone."

Heero's eyes remained locked on Duo, mesmerized, completely unprepared for how a couple of words could make him feel both so unnerved and so delighted. Perhaps, there was no better to describe how he felt about Duo. Like he was hurtling closer and closer to the edge of a cliff and loving every second. The mischievous smirk that Duo donned didn't help matters, either.

"I can take a hint," Quatre scoffed, managing to stand up after some very careful maneuvering. He flashed them a winning smile before adding, "don't forget to use protection, you two," and leaving his two friends alone on the rooftop.

Despite the numerous times the two men had been intimate within the short amount of time they'd been dating, Heero still felt a nervous buzzing in his stomach at being left alone with Duo. As captivating as Duo was in the company of others, being alone with the braided man was downright thrilling. Heero felt a familiar twitch in his crotch as Duo smirked the moment he heard the door to the rooftop shut. In the blink of an eye, Duo was straddling Heero, raining down kisses on his face and neck and taking him from zero to sixty.

"So," Duo drawled in his ear as his hips flexed, "tell me more about this crush of yours."

Heero struggled to contain his own excitement and the hollow feeling in his chest at the thought of his first love. "I don't think this is the time to talk about him."

"I think it's the perfect time," Duo's mouth ghosted over the other man's neck.

Heero knew he couldn't deny Duo anything. Not when he was tempting him with whispered words and that gorgeous smile. If he'd had his wits about him, Heero might have though that it was pretty odd to be turned on by hearing your boyfriend talk about his past crush. But as it was, Duo could do no wrong in Heero's eyes.

"He was older than us by a few years," Heero began, sucking in a sharp breath as Duo's hands slipped under his shirt, "and...um...really hot."

"How hot?"

"Should I be worried that this is turning you on?" Heero frowned and why Duo thought his question was hilarious was beyond him.

"Don't be such a stick in the mud, babe. Keep going."

Heero's hands sought out Duo's hips, intent on stopping their motion long enough for him to have a coherent thought. "I don't understand why you want to know this."

"I'm just interested, 'Ro," Duo's hips finally stopped and he swung his leg away from Heero, shifting on the couch so that they were merely sitting next to each other. "Is it wrong to want to know about who came before me?"

Heero shrugged, but he continued. "His name was Milliardo. He was...different. His family was nowhere near as lenient as Quatre's so he was pretty rebellious. Always the black sheep, I suppose. He was always sleeping around and doing inappropriate things."

As he spoke, Heero's mind filled with images of the first boy he loved, the first one to break his heart. He remembered icy blue eyes and a somber face, rough hands cupping his own face and telling him that it was alright, that it wouldn't hurt for much longer, that he was perfect. And he remembered, most of all, believing him. Heero had believed this boy because he was older and beautiful and because he held his hand so sweetly as he fucked him discreetly in a summer mansion. He had foolishly believed that he would never hurt him so when Milliardo had driven away on his dark red motorcycle, long, pale blond hair trailing out from his helmet, never to return to the Winner mansion, Heero had been utterly broken.

The emotions of teenage heartache long forgotten came flooding back to Heero and he fought to maintain his composure.

"Did you ever tell him how you felt?" Duo's voice was an anchor keeping from drifting further into unhappy memories.

"Yes, I did."

Duo's eyes widened. "Well, you gonna tell me how it went, Romeo?"

Heero managed to smile. Duo must have had the same kind of magic Quatre had.

"We spent a summer together. And then he went away."

"To college?"

"I don't know. He didn't say. He didn't come back until many, many years later. Quatre and I had already graduated university by then."

The silence that followed Heero's statement was strange, but not in the least bit uncomfortable. It was simply odd for Duo to have nothing to say.

Heero tilted his head back to look at the sky. It was a shame that they lived in the city and the light pollution obscured the infinite sparks of the night sky. The darkness above him was still comforting though, and he lost himself in the calm it brought him until the soft press of fingers into his hand brought him back down to earth.

He looked at Duo, his lips turned upwards and his eyes shimmering, and felt the pain of his past heartache receding. Heero smiled again.

"I'm sorry," Duo said, his voice trembling oddly.

Heero frowned.

"He hurt you, didn't he?" Duo clarified and Heero felt his heart skip a beat, "You didn't have to say it. I can tell."

"He was my first time, you know. And when he left, he didn't even say goodbye."

"Fuckin' bastard," Duo snarled.

"Did I ruin it for you?" Heero asked.

"No, I'm just sorry I made you talk about it."

Duo looked down at his lap, seeming every bit like a scolded child and Heero kissed his cheek. "It's okay. Let's go inside."

Heero stood up and walked towards the exit, feeling a strange mixture of emotions in his chest. Usually, thoughts of Milliardo and the way he had left without a word sent him into a kind of depression. But this time, talking about him hadn't been as painful as Heero had imagined it would be. In fact, it had almost felt good to tell Duo about it, to let someone know about his disappointment. The pain Milliardo had caused him was nothing compared to the joy Duo was bringing him now, and that knowledge was soothing. That is, until he began to think about how easily Duo could do the exact same thing.

Heero's shoulders sagged as he reached the door.

"Wait!"

Duo's voice caught him by surprise. He spun around to face him.

"I love you."

Heero smiled back at him, through his doubt. "I love you, too, Duo."

Duo stepped closer, closing the distance between them. He stared into the deep blue of Heero's eyes before responding.

"You know how I know that I love you?" Duo asked, snaking a hand around Heero's waist to bring their bodies flush.

Despite the boldness of his movements, his voice was quiet, almost reverent. Perhaps he'd seen through Heero again.

"How?"

"Because I hate that anyone has ever hurt you."

He kissed Heero, a simple and sweet brush of lips before bringing his lips to the dark-haired man's forehead.

Heero had always thought it was preposterous to believe that salvation could be found in any one person, or that past wrongs could be righted and wiped clean with something as fleeting as love. But tonight, enveloped by Duo's arms and warmth, he began to believe. Maybe there was something like hope in his gentle kiss, and he decided then and there, to never doubt Duo again.


End file.
